If You Want A Job Done Properly
by ValkyrieVeela
Summary: If Hermione had followed Malfoy into the bathroom instead. May be continued, may be Dramione, slightly Dark!Hermione? Don't really know what I'm doing. Relying on review for development. Hermione recruits Draco AU! Rated T to be safe, as always. Will change genre to romance of needed in future. Possibly. Kind of pointless, but I like it cos it's slightly evil. :)
1. Chapter 1

**1.1.16, Fri**

 **A/N: This is what happens when you get sucked into reading fanfiction as you wait for Jools' countdown.**

 **Yep. That's right. You get...**

 **... _inspired_. *shudder* It is _waaaay_ too late/early to be writing, but now I _have_ to. Thank you, New Year(!)**

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If You Want A Job Done Properly

Hermione worried her lip nervously. Harry was having one of his 'Death Eater - Red Alert!' episodes and she could see exactly how it would end. He'd just spoken to the victim of the crime when the perpetrator had shuffled in and all but confessed with his ridiculously doleful expression. This could mean only one thing: Angry Teenage Male Protocol One - Toublemaking for Oneself and One's Peers. _Joy_. She let out a little sigh and clicked her tongue. _People are so predictable_.

"Huh? Who? What? Oi, 'Mione, did you say something?" She shook her head.

"No. Go back to your food." She winced inwardly as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Perhaps that had been a little _too_ blunt.

"'Mione-"

"Back in a minute, Ron." Ignoring him, she swung her legs off the bench and into her other charge.

" _Ow!_ Bloody hell, Hermione - get out of the way!" Crossing her legs to further block his path, she raised an eyebrow.

"So that you can go panting after Malfoy like a lovesick puppy?" Watching him turn scarlet and splutter was fun, she decided. Alas, she had somewhere to be. "I'll take this one." She rose from her seat and swept after That Poor Boy/That Bloody Death Eater.

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 _The boys' toilets? Really?_ She scrunched her nose up as she slipped past the door - and just as swiftly pressed herself against the side of a cubicle. Malfoy was at a sink - well, clinging onto it for dear life - and he looked like he was trying to be sick. He'd pulled off his tie and vest and was sort of panting at his reflection. Then without warning, he added _noise_ to the picture, and she realised why the scene was slightly familiar.

Malfoy - _Draco Bloody Malfoy_ \- was _crying_. No, honestly - he was sobbing his little heart out, poor kid. Hermione exhaled softly. This was awkward. It was feeding the tiny spark of maternal kindness that she kept locked away somewhere. _Oh, shush!_ She chided. _We've never yet needed you, nor any of your compatriots_ (joy, fear, sadness, guilt, rage), _and we're not going to start now just because a little boy is crying._ She slipped out of her corner and leant against a column, crossing her arms and assuming a generally _casual_ pose.

"'If they should ask us why we died, tell them that our fathers lied.'" Malfoy whipped round to face her with horror slapped across his face.

" _Granger?!_ " The corner of her lip _almost_ twitched upward. _Stop it!_

"Muggle quote. From the First World War. All the young men signed up at first. Volunteered. As far as they were concerned, they were fighting a brave and noble war for King and country. 'Huzzah! Huzzah! And Long Live the King!'" She paused for effect as she let her eyes meet his. "Naturally, it was kept quiet that the whole disaster that cost so many millions of lives was all over a squabble between cousins. Well - that, or a ham sandwich in Bosnia-Herzegovina. Depends who you ask."

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" He hissed. She pouted thoughtfully.

"Why, _I_ was under the impression that I was drawing quite an exemplary parallel with the upcoming Wizarding War and the First World War of 1914 to 1918." She felt a smirk bubbling up as his fists clenched and he gritted his teeth. _What is is with this one and my_ feelings _?_

"That's not what I meant and you know it. What are you _doing?_ " She let her expression return to its natural state. Blank.

"Making idle conversation. Whiling away my precious minutes of free time before I have to go back to babysitting. Caring about your mental health. Saving your life." She tilted her head to the left. "What would you like me to be here for?" A beat. "And don't say anything inappropriate. If you do, I'll rip off your arm so you'll never see that tattoo again, either because it's gone when you wake up or because you've bled to death." He managed to pale even further - she hadn't thought it was possible - but recovered quickly. He snorted.

"In your dreams, Granger. As if I'd ever - if I'd - that's _disgusting_." Creeping ever closer, she maintained eye contact.

"Of course, of course - well-bred little pureblood prince couldn't _possibly_ sully himself with such a filthy creature. But - you're not a prince any more, are you? Not since the king reclaimed his throne. No, I'm afraid your status is very much... _probationary_ at present, isn't it?" They were almost nose-to-nose. Malfoy gripped the sink as he leaned back over it. He swallowed. "And yet, it always was, in a way, wasn't it? I remember when we were still children. Before we were soldiers in a war not of our making... you knew. You were so desperate for our attention - mine and the boys'. It's almost trademarked - doesn't get enough attention at home, will do anything at all to gain it, ends up unable to differentiate between positive and negative. It's _classic_. Textbook." Her words were so soft she was hissing them now.

Suddenly, Malfoy's terror deserted him. His entire body tensed and he lurched forward, forcing Hermione back until he was clear of both her and the sink by a few feet. _Good lad._

"Get to the point or leave me alone." She delicately raised an eyebrow.

"You wanted our attention then. You chose your father's approval above everything else, and now you've chosen survival. What you didn't realise was that you still wanted our attention. These stunts you've been pulling - it's as if you _want_ to be caught. You _do_ want to be caught - you want to be stopped. To be brought into the light and told it will be alright." She gave an unexpected little giggle. _Oh, I give up. Goodbye, cold logic. It was fun while it lasted. Wait - no it wasn't! That was the whole bloody point!_ "Well, we can't do that. It's no fun being a soldier on this side, either - and don't talk to me about _friends_ and _nobility_ and _righteousness_ and all that utter tosh. That's for _average_ intellects, not their babysitters. Not for their childhood nemesis, either, before you start getting ideas." His eyes are wild now, like a trapped animal.

"What _can_ you do for me then?!" He spat at her.

"It's more what _I_ can do for you, really. The boys wouldn't be able to think of it on their own, I'm afraid, and frankly they're too volatile to be upset right now. It's best that we keep it between ourselves and out of range of the dear little hormone-driven rage monsters, don't you think?" He stared at her.

"They're your _friends_ , Granger. Since when are you so - so -"

"Try not to think about it," she advised. "It'll only give you a headache. Speaking of which - how would you like to learn Occlumency? You'll need it to stay alive in your line of work."

"You haven't said what it is yet. Who says I'll accept, anyway?" _Defensive. Angry. Ashamed. He wants to refuse. **He can't**. True. _

"You're hardly in a position to say no. And it's only a little thing, really."

" _What - is?!_ "

"Becoming a double agent, of course." _Goodness, he looks like a fish_. "As I said, best keep it between us. Don't want the boys giving the game away, and they _will_ if they know. Perhaps not ideal to tell the adults, either - they _are_ somewhat prone to... _interference_ , and they'll be more likely to help you if you seem to be innocent as a lamb to slaughter. There's a point - _do_ you want to stay innocent? It's the difference between passing on information, knowing only that it's doing good, and passing on information knowing full well the consequences. Also some independent thinking and possibly a mission or two other than listening and blabbing." He was shaking now. It seemed like an eternity before he replied.

"Looks like I'll have to learn Occlumency." She rewarded him with a professional smile.

"Excellent. Meet me in the Room of Requirement after lights-out. I trust you can perform a Disillusionment Charm adequately?" He shook his head.

"Well, you've done alright sneaking about so far. I'm sure you'll be fine for tonight, but I'll give you a run through when you arrive." She made to leave. "Oh, and if the boys attack you later today, it's because you Obliviated me when I came to see if you were alright." With a whisk of her robes, she was gone.

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 **Ugh, don't ask. I have no idea what I just did. Tell me if you want more.**


	2. Chapter 2

**4.1.16, Mon**

 **A/N: Continued because plot bunnies and five reviews, though for some reason I can only read them in my emails.  
**

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The Room of God-Awful Headaches Where Privacy Means Nothing

" _Legilimens!_ "

Draco writhed and screamed as the memory of his Marking overwhelmed his mind. His mother's nails were cutting into his father's hands and the Dark Lord was smiling and Aunt Bella laughed as she added a " _Crucio!"_ for good measure every few minutes -

Gasping, he was released from the vision and dizzily presented with the image of his instructoress sighing and leisurely polishing her wand. Looking up from her task, she tutted at him.

"Hardly conducive of natural ability. This is your third session and you're only getting worse. This is the trouble with Daddy's boys; all of you are used to being so open and honest about everything you do, desperately hoping that you might one day say something he'll approve of - well, this course will have to break you of a habit of a lifetime in just a few weeks at most. The longer you're walking around unprotected the less use I have for you."

"What?" He panted. "Why? How do I get _less_ useful?" She half-smirked at the notion of him being affronted by such a statement.

"The more you know, the less you'll like, and the more vulnerable you are, the less you'll be trusted. It's not going to be enough to just block a Legilimens like Voldemort - " she noticed his flinch, but continued regardless, " - because then he'll know you have something to hide. It's not _good_ enough to distract him by pushing a different memory to the front, because he'll pick up on the trick before long and he'll start to look for what you're hiding behind it. It's not _enough_ to be competent, or even _good_ : to carry out your task, you must become a _master_ Occlumens. That means control of your mind, your emotions, your body, even your pheromones to a degree. You must be beyond all suspicion and too important to cast away. Do you understand me, Draco?" He nodded slowly.

"In order to survive and keep my family safe, I must become a master. Yes, I see that, but - and please don't take this the wrong way - would it not be easier to just... well, to remove me from the equation altogether?" She clicked her tongue exasperatedly.

" _Do_ stop being so morbid." She began to pace. "I need a man on the inside that I can trust to be _my_ man - not Harry's, not Dumbledore's, not Voldemort's - _mine_. I need him to report to me, obey me, die for me if it becomes necessary at any point in the future. _You_ \- " She whipped round to face him, "- will be that man. Yes?"

"Die - for _you?_ Aren't we being a little melodramatic here, Gra-"

" _Sit. Down._ " He slumped back into his seat. "Good boy. Now, let me make this perfectly clear, Mr. Malfoy: you need my help to stay alive. Regardless of your obvious death wish, I will give you that help. My one condition is that you give me your utmost loyalty." She stalked towards him. "Such a little thing," she breathed, "Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Malfoy?" Eyes glazed over, he nodded. "Such a very little thing. It would be an awful shame were you to deny me this one precious, _little_ thing that I so desire, wouldn't it, Mr. Malfoy?" He nodded again. Achingly slowly, she pointed her wand at his head. "Who am I?"

"The Devil."

"What have you done?"

"Bargained my soul away."

"For what?"

"For the greater good..."

"... ' _In which I so believe._ ' Mr. Malfoy?" _So close._

"I-In - the - for - " She sighed in disappointment.

"Such a shame. Perhaps next time, Mr. Malfoy. _Legilimens_."

Draco writhed and screamed as the memory of his Marking overwhelmed his mind. His mother's nails were cutting into his father's hands and the Dark Lord was smiling and Aunt Bella laughed as she added a " _Crucio!"_ for good measure every few minutes -

Gasping, he was released from the vision and dizzily presented with the image of his instructoress sighing and leisurely polishing her wand. Looking up from her task, she tutted at him.

"Hardly conducive of natural ability. This is your third session and you're only getting worse. Perhaps it's time we put a stop to all this nonsense and obliviate you."

"No! No - please! I need to learn!" She smiled kindly.

"And why is that, Draco? I've seen your mind. You just want it all to end. Why should we continue?"

"We made a bargain!" He looked shocked at the words that leapt forth without permission. She leaned forward intently. _Curious_. She'd thought the programming hadn't held.

"With whom did you make a bargain, Draco?"

"With you." Again, he is surprised, but this time his eyes narrow in suspicion.

"And, if you would be so kind, Mr. Malfoy," She sees his eyes widen at the use of his surname and she knows he has seen the trap, "Who am I?" He fights furiously for nearly a full second before his eyes glaze over and he answers smoothly,

"The Devil." With a feral grin and his head at wandpoint, she continues.

"What have you done?"

"Bargained away my soul." In her excitement, she fails to notice the slight rearranging and the triumphant gleam in his otherwise blank eyes.

"For what?"

"For the greater good in which I so believe." Giggling, she taps her wand against his forehead.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." His eyes close and she uses her fifteen minutes to scribble down notes, mainly consisting of 'Experiment 17C successful' and 'recommend Operative training begin immediately' and 'cognitive trauma essential to success: perhaps Test Subject 7 deceased due to lack of prior exposure?'.

By the time Draco woke up, the magically enlarged binder had disappeared and Hermione was smiling at him.

"How do you feel?" He grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That bad, mm?"

"Why're you being all... _Granger?_ " He queried woozily. Her smile dropped and her tone went back to being blank when she spoke again.

"You prefer the real me?"

"No." She replaced the smile and bounced out of her seat, cheerily saying,

"Then you get this and you'll be happy about it. Come on, I'll walk you back and give you some Pepper-Up, alright?" Stumbling out of his chair, he nodded.

"How long before I can get a handle on this... Occlumency thing?"

"Now that we have the essentials out of the way, you should start to progress much faster." _Now that you'll have no choice but to obey. Now that I know for a fact I can trust you with the proper technique. Now that I've ripped your mind apart and put Humpty back together again enough times without you even noticing that I'll always be able to tell when you try to hide something. Now that you're programmed to obey, and therefore_ can't _try to hide anything._

"Okay." He smiled tentatively at her. She laughed. "What?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile. Only - _smug_ smiles and the like." This made his smile morph into a grin, and he bumped their shoulders together with a sarcastic _'Thanks!'_

When she'd dosed him with Pepper-Up and headed back up the corridor, Draco made his way to bed. Before he could fall asleep, though, he tugged a ratty notebook and quill from under his mattress. Careful not to mutter as he wrote - a very poor habit for secret-keeping - he jotted down the incidents of the day that had led to the creeping feeling in the back of his mind. Then he briefly transcribed the session with Granger, and compared it to the notes he'd made from a book on the training of an Occlumens. Something wasn't adding up; he just had to work out _what_...

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 **This chapter is so incredibly strange that I barely understand it. I only worked out what I wanted to communicate about halfway through, and unless you all hate it I'm just going to leave it as is and explain it in a later chapter. 'Kay?**

 **Also, new HP story: 'The Marginally Revised Tale of Tom, Rick and Harry'. Yeah... don't ask. But possibly read and review?**


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